


Fresh Meat

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Annoying Character Death, Comedic Gore, Crack, Dark Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: Kris has his eye on the new guy at the butcher shop he works at, despite the fact that this Jongdae dude is playing hard to get.  There's no way he and the Boss's son, Minseok, are actually dating, which makes it only a matter of time before Kris gets his sausage between those buns....It's a bit of a boner-killer that Minseok is always glaring at Kris while sharpening his cleaver, though.





	Fresh Meat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Exo-M Fest 2018, in response to prompt number 140.
> 
> Genre: crackfic/dark comedy/character death/murder/slight gore
> 
> Prompt: Kris thinks Jongdae is playing hard to get, but Jongdae's really just playing leave me the fuck alone (Basically Kris is being a gross, harassing and inappropriate fuckboy co-worker who can't take no for an answer and Jongdae is getting sick of it).
> 
>  
> 
> I hope this meaty little fic is satisfying!

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

"Dayum, the new guy is looking fuckable in that apron."

Minseok looks up from the leg in front of him, cleaver paused in the process of neatly disarticulating the knee joint, to see which of their co-workers Kris has his sleazy sights set on now.  Upon following the tall man's leer to its target, Minseok snorts and returns to his task.

"There is something about the way he works that sausage press that makes a man happy to be alive.  I'll have him on  _my_  sausage by the end of the week."  Kris waggles his bushy brows suggestively, as if the world might miss the joke if he didn't.

"No, you won't."  Minseok says as he slices smoothly through tendon and sinew.  Kris is his least-favorite co-worker, mostly because he always thinks with his "little head," and that head must be very small indeed based on the quality of thought it produces.

Kris laughs, elbowing Minseok in the ribs.  "Do you doubt my seductive abilities?"

Minseok manages not to slice off anything he shouldn't despite the obnoxious jostling he's receiving.  "Yes, yes I do.  And you're ogling my boyfriend, so."  Minseok lifts his cleaver high before slamming it down to sever shin from ankle.  Kris will have to find someone else to drip his grease all over—Minseok doesn't share what's his.

Kris snorts.  "Yeah, right.  If you're gonna make shit up, at least make it believable."

Minseok lifts one angled brow.  He can't wait to see what this narcissistic bonehead says next.  

"I mean, the both of you are twinks.  Sure, you're like a muscle twink because you're the Boss's son and you've been breaking cows since you were like twelve or something, but you're still obviously a bottom.  And  _that_  little snack is clearly a sloppy little party bottom, so there's no way the two of you could ever be a thing." 

Minseok levels his gaze at the chauvinist beside him.  "The fuck gives you the idea that you can look at a guy and tell what he likes in the bedroom without a single conversation in that direction?"  Blood drips from Minseok's cleaver to spatter on the worktable in front of him.

"Oh, come on, Minnie—it's not about what you  _like_ , it's about what you  _are_.  Big guys like me are meant to dish it out, little guys like you are meant to take it.  You can't deny your true nature."

Minseok feels his entire forehead twist at the baffling idiocy this chucknugget is spouting.  "That's—that's not how being gay actually works," Minseok says, but Kris's beady little eyes are locked once again on the ass of the object of his infatuation.

"On my dick by Friday," Kris declares with a grin and a decisive nod.

Absolutely secure in the knowledge that the only dick the new guy is interested in is his, Minseok just rolls his eyes.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

"Why the fuck is there a meat pie on my workstation?" Jongdae asks, looking around to see who abandoned their lunch on his countertop.  He may only be a brand-new Meat Management grad, but he knows how to avoid cross-contamination, and an unwrapped pastry on a routinely blood- and offal-spattered surface is definitely not it.

"Ah, I see you found my little gift," a tall blond man purrs, waggling ridiculous eyebrows at him.  

"Who the fuck are you?" Jongdae asks, even though he  _knows_  this must be the infamous Kris that Minseok sneers about.  He's heard tons of stories about his boyfriend's favorite co-workers—fair-faced but foul-mouthed Han; dancing, dimpled Yixing; and tall, tender-hearted Zitao—but nobody earns Minseok's scorn like "the bleach-blond fuckboy with more height than sense."

"I'm the guy taking you out on Friday," the sleazy guy says.  "You're so skinny—I'd better fill you up with a big piece of  _meat_."

"You're disgusting," Jongdae grimaces, trying to bat the unsanitary pie off his station and into the trash without touching it more than he has to.  "You and your _meat_ can fuck right off."

"I see how it is," Kris leers.  "Babyback likes to play hard to get, eh?  That's alright—I  _love_  the thrill of the hunt."

He slithers back to his own workstation, but not before leaving a bloody handprint on the seat of Jongdae's pants.

Jongdae glances at his boyfriend, smirking a bit as Minseok eyes Kris with disgust while aggressively stropping his knife, sleeves rolled up to display toned arms rippling in time with the rhythmic motion. 

Jongdae firmly forces his attention back to his own work.  Boning knives are sharp and merciless, despite the fact that nobody makes butchery look like foreplay like the Boss's son.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

On Tuesday, Jongdae reaches for his apron in the staff room, only to find a bright orange sticky note attached to it.  It's covered in giant bloody fingerprints and sloppy handwriting, and it's so painful to read that once Jongdae has his apron tied neatly around his waist, he marches into the work room to read it out loud so everyone can suffer with him. 

"Roses are red, so are dead cows, we gonna fuck, I hope you are loud?"  Laughter bounces against all the easily-sterilized surfaces as Jongdae holds the note up for all to see.  "Minseok, you already know I'm loud, why are you leaving me terrible poetry stuck to my uniform?"

"Oh, come on, Dae—even my humor isn't  _that_  awful," Minseok shoots back with a grin.

A red-faced Kris stomps over to snatch the sticky note from Jongdae's hand.  "I see Minnie roped you into his little joke, but you can't fool me.  I know you're gagging for what I can give you.  I mean, just look how big my feet are—you know the saying about guys with big feet, right?"

"That it's even more awkward when they put their foot in their mouth?" Jongdae asks, trading a high-five with Yixing on his way to the sausage machine.

"You know you want this," Kris smirks as he gets his own station ready for the day.

"Sure I do—far away from me."

"Nice try—I know I'm irresistible," Kris says, but Jongdae's witty retort is cut off by the opening chime, so he joins his co-workers in pasting on a how-can-I-help-you smile.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

On Wednesday, Jongdae finds a pair of tibias waiting for him on his workstation.

"The fuck is this mess?" he asks, afraid he knows  _who_  even if he has no idea  _why_.

"It's because I know you want to bone, Babyback," Kris grins from his station.  "Get it?   _Two_  bone?"

Jongdae rolls his eyes, scraping the refuse into the bin.  "How are you allowed outside without adult supervision?" he asks the greasy giant.

"You like it when people watch us doing adult things, Babyback?  Ooh, so kinky!"

"I like it when greaseballs leave me the fuck alone," Jongdae replies.

Kris makes as if to step over to Jongdae's workstation but Minseok  _accidentally_  dumps his offal bucket over just as Kris approaches, stepping nimbly out of the way as the greaseball in question slips on entrails and hits the cement floor hard.

"Shit, Minnie," Kris complains, cradling a bruised elbow and wearing a loop of small intestine as a hairpiece.  "Fucking be more careful."

"Sorry," Minseok chirps angelically, using his big feline eyes to his advantage on someone other than Jongdae for once.

Han has to step into the staff room for a moment because he's laughing so hard.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

Thursday brings a station rotation, meaning Jongdae ends up next to his tormentor, much to the taller man's delight.

"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow, my little cutlet," Kris grins, reaching to wrap his arm around Jongdae's waist.

Sidestepping the attempt, Jongdae scowls.  "Or not—you have no idea where I live, thank fuck."

"I got your address from employee records," Kris smiles wider.  "Wear something sexy for me.  Dat ass is prime grade."

"'Dat ass' is already spoken for, and even if it weren't, no fucking means no, cecum breath."

"You can't lie to me—your emergency contacts are just your mom and Minnie.  There's no boyfriend listed.  Dat rump roast is fair game."

"I should  _not_  have to prove this to you, but—" Jongdae sets his cleaver down before he hurts someone with it and marches over to his boyfriend.  

Minseok's on the meat grinder today, and he swipes his fingers through the contents of the drip tray before reciprocating Jongdae's embrace and sharing a filthy, tongue-laden kiss.  

Jongdae's lips curve up on the ends as he feels his boyfriend trace the word "MINE" in blood on the back of his clean white shirt as Zitao whoops catcalls in the background.

"Okay, enough with the creepy twink-on-twink display," Kris complains.  "Do you want me to pick you up at eight instead?  Is that what this is about?"

"I want you to pick up the idea that I am in no way interested in dating you," Jongdae declares, releasing his grinning boyfriend and returning to his station.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kris scoffs.  "Eight o'clock it is."

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

On Friday afternoon Kris creeps up behind Jongdae, trapping him against his station and pressing his pelvis up against Jongdae's ass.  

"I can't wait for tonight, Babyback," he murmurs into Jongdae's ear.

Jongdae flips the carving knife in his hand around and reaches back until the point is prodding the floppy sausage rubbing against the small of his back.  "Dogs that hump legs get neutered," he informs his assailant.

"I get it, Babyback—you don't want to spoil the surprise." 

Kris releases Jongdae and backs away with a leer, just in time for Minseok to suddenly pivot with an entire rack of ribs on his shoulder, clocking Kris across the scapulae.  As the tall blond folds forward, Minseok pivots back the other way, walloping Kris in the face and sending him sprawling, unconscious, to the cement floor.

"Ah, there's my handsaw," Minseok exclaims, heading to his station without a glance behind him.

Jongdae takes the opportunity to wring out his wipe-down rag right over the K.O.'d man's crotch, leaving a nice bleach-scented wet spot for him to wake up to.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

The Angry Birds bandage over the cut on Kris's forehead doesn't stop him from showing up to Jongdae's apartment at eight, just like he'd said.  He growls in frustration when Minseok opens to his knock, gripping door and doorframe so as to block the entrance with his compact, muscular body.

"What part of 'fuck off' do you not understand?" Minseok growls.

"Minnie, stop cock-blocking me," Kris complains.  "I worked hard for this, and I'm going to enjoy it."

"You're going to  _enjoy_  the trunk of my car if you keep sniffing where you're not wanted," Minseok warns.

"Wait—are you  _jealous_?" Kris asks.  "Do you want me to ask _you_ out instead?"

"Fuck no," Minseok spits.  "I just want you to stop stalking my boyfriend."

"Oh, just give it up!" Kris demands.  "You're not fooling anyone.  Now get out of the way and let me at my sexy little strip steak."

Jongdae hooks his chin over Minseok's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's torso.  "Ugh, fine, Min—we can handle this your way, now."

"Thank you, Dae," Minseok chirps, and Jongdae can feel the tension roll out of his boyfriend's shoulders.

 

🔪🔪🔪

 

Minseok and Jongdae have to come in early Saturday morning to cover since they're suddenly down a co-worker, but Minseok doesn't mind because it lets him enjoy his favorite job, organizing the display case and setting out the specials for the weekend.  He hums along with the radio as he polishes the glass and artfully arranges all of the beautiful cuts of meat they have for sale.  His smile broadens as he sees old Mrs. Choi outside, five minutes before opening time as usual, and he presses the button to let his favorite customer in.

"Minseok, dear, you always look so handsome in your nice white apron!" she greets him, like she always does.

"Ah, you're such a flatterer, Noona," he responds, purposefully using the honorific that implies they're close in age even though she's got at least five decades on him.

"Noona," she repeats with a chuckle.  "Such a flirt.  What have you got on special for me today?"

Minseok smiles over the counter at the sweet old lady.  "Well, the long pork is half-off already, but for you, I'll make it sixty-five percent.  We've got a lot of it, just processed last night, and I'd hate for it to go bad before we can sell it all."  The Boss hates when his staff give additional discounts, but sometimes it's good to be the hard man's son.  Minseok has always been able to get away with murder.

"My grandchildren will be here for Sunday dinner tomorrow, so I'll take enough to feed a small army," she jokes.  She has four teenage grandsons that she loves to show Minseok photos of, and they're all lanky, growing boys that love their grandma's cooking.

"How about some nice steaks for this weekend, and then maybe something to stew later in the week?"

"Sounds great!  Oh, and do you have any sausages?"

"I'll have some made up just for you," Minseok offers, turning to wave Jongdae over to grab a tray of the freshly-ground meat.

"Such nice boys," Mrs. Choi coos, and Minseok lets himself get distracted watching his lover feed the meat into the hopper.

Jongdae does look really fuckable in that apron, and there's just something about the way he works that sausage press that makes a man happy to be alive.

 

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪


End file.
